


Like Icarus (Too Close to the Sun)

by Shamefics



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Stiles Stilinski is Pushed Out of the Pack, Warning: Gerard Argent, like a lot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:39:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23000074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shamefics/pseuds/Shamefics
Summary: It starts with a body in the woods.It starts with the first body, Laura Hale, ripped in two and half missing. It starts with the first body and a dumb shit decision and dragging Scott into the woods. It starts with “come on it’ll be fun, nothing cool ever happens here,” and getting his best friend turned into a werewolf.It starts with a body in the woods, and ends with Stiles hurt and kicked out of the pack. Is it really the end though? Or will the pack realize the mistake they've made before it's too late?
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 2
Kudos: 57





	Like Icarus (Too Close to the Sun)

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-write of a fic I write one chapter of then realized I hated with all my heart. I feel a lot better about attempt two, and hope you all enjoy as well.

It starts with a body in the woods. 

It starts with the first body, Laura Hale, ripped in two and half missing. It starts with the first body and a dumb shit decision and dragging Scott into the woods. It starts with  _ “come on it’ll be fun, nothing cool ever happens here,” _ and getting his best friend turned into a werewolf. 

It starts with the first body and just  _ doesn’t stop.  _

It doesn’t stop and before Stiles can really figure out what’s going on there’s a second body, and then a third, and then more after that. It doesn’t stop and Stiles can’t stop either, has to keep going or all of the people he loves will end up dead, and it will be all his fault.

Which is why Stiles knows he should be grateful right now, because at least he’s alive. Except he isn’t entirely convinced that’s true, can’t imagine how he could have made it out of that basement. Surely he died back there, he must have, because there’s no way he could have survived that. 

He’s breathing though. There’s an ache in his lungs as he pulls in air, abused ribs screaming in protest, but he’s  _ breathing.  _ He’s breathing and his body still moves, so he’s got to be alive. Rationally he knows that, he knows that Gerard released him from those chains and allowed him to leave. He knows that. 

It doesn’t feel true though, feels like he reached inside of Stiles with those awful fucking hands and strangled the life out of him. It feels like he's dead and his body just hasn’t caught up yet. 

He’s alive enough though. 

Alive enough to lie to his Dad about the bruises, words slipping past his lips without a second thought. Alive enough to feel bad about it, that familiar hate at what he has to do to protect him. He’s alive enough to console Lydia, and then to drive his jeep into her boyfriend. He’s alive enough to see Gerard dead on the ground, the awful mix of emotions this brings up almost making him vomit but at the center of it all an undeniable relief. 

He’s alive enough to notice when Gerards body disappears, his heart pounding in his chest and deafening ringing in his ear, unable to make himself look away. 

Clenching his hands into fists, digging his nails into his palms, Stiles focuses on controlling his breathing. He knows the only reason none of the werewolves have noticed something is wrong with him is because of how intense the last few hours have been. He also knows that if he doesn’t get his shit under control soon one of them  _ will  _ notice, and he’s really not in the mood for that conversation right now. Or ever. He forces himself to look from where Gerards body should be, and wrestles himself back under control. 

When Stiles feels like he can finally breathe without forcing every breath, when his heart is no longer a jackrabbit threatening escape, he looks up to find no one has spared him a passing glance. Well, almost no one. Derek is staring him down, expression blank so Stiles has absolutely no way to tell what he’s thinking, gaze unwavering. 

Stiles wonders if he can smell Gerard on him, if maybe his scent has seeped into his skin, tainting him. But no, because he’d showered, scrubbed at his skin until it was red, removed any trace of that man from his body. And he’d changed his clothes too, shoving the old in the back of his closet to hopefully be forgotten. Maybe that wouldn’t have been enough any other time, but with so many competing smells there’s just no way. 

Which means he’d probably heard the frantic drumline of Stiles heart, and that was why he stared. Not great, but not the worst. Panic could be explained. Fuck, given the circumstances it was probably normal. Probably the most normal thing to happen to Stiles in the last year. 

But if Derek talks to him he’ll know something is wrong, and will be able to hear that he’s lying, hiding something. Stiles can’t deal with that, doesn’t want to feel that panic he’d just shoved down inside himself. He doesn’t want to feel any of it, or anything, ever again. 

Nobody but Derek notices as he turns away and climbs into his Jeep, and even he is looking away by the time Stiles drives off. He does his best to ignore the dull ache in his chest. Does his best to tell himself it’s what he wanted anyways. 


End file.
